Sarah nodded, determined not to shed a tear despite the unbridled anger directed at her. She realised, there and then, that she hated the Reverend Mother, and she hated her methods, and that, no matter what, she resolved that she would not be cowed by her. She might obey, while the Reverend Mother had all the power, but that did not mean she was defeated. Three days naked in a convent was humiliating, but she could just about survive it.

That evening Sarah discovered a downside of her punishment: in her unclothed state, nobody would sit near her at the dinner table, or talk to her as they walked to prayer. Being ostracised was worse than being naked. At prayer she crouched, ashamed of herself, at the back of the room, begging for forgiveness because she knew that she had done wrong. Yet still, as she had after Sister Theresa’s punishment, she begged for forgiveness for the Reverend Mother, because she felt the Reverend Mother needed it even more than she did.

Sarah prayed some more within the solitude of her own room and, slipping off her stockings, she went to bed, her mind dwelling on how such a small lapse had gotten her into such deep trouble.

Read the rest of the story in The Rules of the Convent

I nodded as she rolled my jeans down my legs. I sat my bare buttocks on her sofa and lifted both my legs as she tugged at my underwear and jeans, pulling them off my feet and dropping them onto the back of a chair.

I’d honestly never felt so self-conscious, sat there, suddenly nude. Lisa sat back beside me in her PVC dress and boots.

“What…” I began, “What am I going to be wearing?”

Lisa looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you know Tina?” she asked me. I nodded, although I only barely knew the girl she was talking about.

“She has something for you to put on,” she told me.

“And where’s Tina?”

“She’s on her way. Or at least she said she’d get her early.”

I looked wistfully at my clothes crumpled on the chair: I’d have preferred to have gotten undressed after my outfit had arrived, not before. Then I glanced up at the table across the room, laid out with drinks and empty glasses. I noticed what looked like a pair of handcuffs on the far corner and then averted my eyes in embarrassment. I don’t know why.

Read the rest of A Very Grown Up Party, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF

“Oh my God, no!” Lucy muttered, ecstasy and agony together in one breath. Suddenly she was naked. Worse, she was naked on a park bench, her legs spread wide and her arms tied either side of her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Now she remembered the video that Kasia had referred to, and how much it had turned her on, watching the young woman stripped and tied, so publicly helpless. She had fantasised about it and watched it over and over again, but that didn’t mean she had wanted to act it out.

Kasia stopped stroking her. Lucy willed her to continue. She was so close to orgasm, and perhaps, if she did, then Kasia would untie her, return her clothes and take her home. She wanted that release so much that she would even endure this humiliation for it.

“Oh God, no no no no no,” she mumbled with her eyes closed. Kasia remained knelt between her legs.

“It was a good video, no?” Lucy heard her ask in her eastern European accent. For some reason, Lucy nodded in agreement.

Lucy opened her eyes. She looked around and saw the sight she most dreaded: people looking back. They dared not approach, but her nudity was too obvious to miss now. Kasia looked around.

Read the rest of On The Bench, and 11 other ENF stories, in Just ENF